Siblings Touching Across Time
by Imperatrix Xoco
Summary: “After all, we haven’t seen each other in hundreds of years.” What the crap? I’m only twelve years old! How could we have met hundreds of years ago? Rated for language.


_Shuria_

I tried not to seem afraid, holding up my bluffed pride. It seemed as though my first day at this "academy" couldn't have started better. I missed my bus, got lost when I had to walk to campus, and my mother made me wear this stupid pink bow.

Pink.

On my head.

Where _people_ could see it. Great. Even now, I'm ten minutes late, and I think my mom literally glued this pink _thing_ to my head! I stopped my rabid tugging; now stepping onto the threshold of, without a doubt, my perpetual doom. Lakeland School. Not middle, not high, but both smashed together. The doors automatically slid open, letting into the huge school. I slipped my single strap bag to the floor, dropping down on one knee next to it. I quickly zipped open the smallest pocket on the pack. A little folded up white paper fell, and I snatched it up.

My fingers flew, unfolding it as fast as I could. There! A school map was outstretched on my palm, a schedule under it. Basically, the sixth graders, like me, are in the same room, except for in sixth period. I scanned the diagram of the three level building, looking for the characters "M" and "9". I squinted, searching hard. Ah! M-9, second floor in the east wing. No problem.

In eight seconds flat (yes, I count those things, after all, I'm easily amused), I was mounting a line of stairs I'd spotted moments before. It was eerie the way my Vans echoed in the empty halls. It's kind of creepy. There really wasn't anytime to worry about that, for I stood on the second floor. Now, all that is left to find is the east wing. I kept looking around, my eyes flickering here and there. My eyebrows furrowed with frustration, and I tried as hard as I might to find some indication of the "east wing".

Note to self: Slap myself later.

A huge blue sign with bold red letters and an equally rouge arrow underneath said my two least favorite words at this point, east and wing. Smooth me. I bolted down that way, and spent a few moments to collect my bearings, waded down halls, searching for M-9. At my sixth hall search, I read the little plastic blue plaques by doors. M-5, M-6, M-7, M-8, M-9, I wheeled around, grinning. Ha! Found it, all on my own I might add.

Deciding not waste anymore time, I grabbed the door handle, turning it and forcing it open. A large group of boys and girls stared at my quizzically. I couldn't help but stare at one with interest. She had blonde hair, very much like my white-ish blonde hair. Her blues eyes stared at, eyebrows arched with curiosity. I reddened under her gaze, seeing as it was directed at my stupid, lopsided bow. I turned away, directing my focus onto the teacher who had stopped writing on the white board. He smiled warmly at me. He was okay, except for that he was bald. Really, bald, and he was a little –ahem- over weight.

He pointed at a seat, still wearing that falsetto grin. "Please take your seat. You must be my new student. Taylor, right?" I nodded. He smiled, and then began writing again. The empty seat was conveniently in the corner, by the girl that had caught my eye. There was something very different about her. For, even as I sat down, she bored into me with abnormally purple eyes. I stared back, even though under her gaze, I felt my bones chill. Despite myself, I had to look away. She looked back down at her note book, reading the notes that she had written.

Or so it _seemed_.

My suspicions were cut off, when my teacher said, "Taylor." I looked up, even though I hated my name. "Would like to introduce yourself to the class?"

"Nope," I said curtly, hoping the idiot would get it.

He shrugged. "Fine then, I'm Mr. Brock, and I'd like to welcome you to my sixth grade classroom," Gee, thanks Mr. B. "Raqual?"

The girl that sat next to me didn't bother to look up at Mr. Brock. "Yeah?"

"Would you mind showing Taylor around for the day?"

"Yeah, sure," I could tell she was suppressing a sigh. I couldn't blame her, I mean, who wants to show the new kid around? I stared down at my hands in my lap, and couldn't help but wish. I wished that I was anyone other than this crap-ish school, I wished that someone actually cared, and that I wasn't wearing this stupid little, pink bow.

During the rest of the periods before lunch, I and this 'Raqual' person looked back and forth at one another. First, she' look at, me, then I'd stare back, then one would look away. The other would go back to what they were doing after the person turned away. We kept doing that for first, second, and third. In third period, we were still in the same old suck-ish room.

In the ending minutes of math, or third period, Raqual slipped me a note. Mr. Brock didn't notice, as he was helping another student with his math problem. I snatched it off my desk, unfolding it in my lap. The green index card had, "Meet me outside by the basketball hoop with graffiti on it at lunch" written on it in neat blue pen. She stared at me with those piercing purple eyes. I nodded in agreement, and she turned back to her math work. I still had shivers from her stare.

Then, thankfully, the bell rang. Everyone raced out the door, money or lunch box in hand. I reached into my bag by my chair, bulling out a paper bag. Good, they were still warm. I could feel the warm thermos through the paper. Already, I could taste the chicken flavored ramen noodles sliding down my throat. I was the last one to walk out the door. I was used to the empty halls I had seen this morning, but this was massive! The halls were packed with kids.

High school kids, middle school kids, all scrunching through to get to lunch. Thank gosh this is a big school. I dodged people, slipping here and there, shoving a few people. I caught sight of Raqual ahead of me. I really wasn't sure if we were friends or not. But, she was supposed to show me around the school. Without thinking, I raced ahead to catch up. Before I realized it, I slammed into a high school girl.

"Sorry," I said apologetically. I turned to walk away.

"You little six let, always so annoying," I switched around. Already a crowd of people surrounded us.

"Excuse me? I dare you to say that again to my face."

She and I were eye to eye, even if she was wearing six inch heels. "I said, you six lets are so annoying."

"I'm about sick of your attitude," I gave her a little push. She nudged me back, and anger boiled up inside of me. We were close enough now that I can taste the gum smell of her breath.

"Stuck-up little brat," she scoffed, and a few 'ooh's echoed around the circle. I snorted.

"Yeah, but I ain't wearing heels either," I snarled. Some people whooped out, and a chant started up. 'Fight, fight, fight', they chanted. The two of us glared. I curled my hand into a fist. Just I was about to lay one on her, Raqual pushed her way through the crowd. My hand unclenched as she set her purple eyes on me. With surprising strength, Raqual clamped a hand onto my shoulder, pulling me away.

I struggled, at times gaining lead way. She was surprising. Finally, I stopped resisting, but still folded my arms over my chest in angry defiance.

* * *

Raqual and I remained leaned against the pole, various colored lines on the black paint. She was right. It had a lot of graffiti. The back board on the hoop had words on it, while the black post was like a multi colored zebra pelt. "So," she raised her eye brows. "Why did you want to talk to me here?"

"Do you," she asked, looking away. "Recognize me?"

What? What kind of answer is that? How should I know her? "No," I replied simply. I stared at my steaming ramen, swirling it with my chop sticks. This girl is beyond weird. Raqual is a cool name in all, but those eyes, everything, it's all so…creepy.

"I should have thought you wouldn't recognize me," her lips curled into a thin smile. "After all, we haven't seen each other in hundreds of years." What the crap? I'm only twelve years old! How could we have met hundreds of years ago?!

"Look," I said, starting to walk away. "You should visit the school counselor, or maybe visit a therapist. 'Cause, you're seriously whacked." I figured I best lay it all on her, just tell exactly what she needed to hear. What goes on in that mind of hers, I wonder.

Her face was red, and she had rage in her eyes, "Look, Shuria, Taylor, whatever the crap you're called now, I'm not whacked. You can't even remember how we got here?!" I stared at her, shaking my head a little. Is there something wrong? Is she mentally insane?! She gripped my wrist, and I struggled only to make her squeeze harder. "Ride home on the bus with me after school. We'll go to my house, and I'll explain everything." She looked calmer now. I was about to say that my mom wouldn't let me. But then, she flipped a cell phone out of her pocket. "Call your guardian and tell her," I managed to grasp the phone. I punched the number in slowly. She looked at me expectantly. I pushed the green button, and then pushed the phone against my ear.

_Ring!_ Please, don't pick up. _Ring!_

"Hello?" I heard my mom's voice on the other end. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Oh, uh, hi Mom, it's Taylor. Could I, um, ride home on the bus to a friend's house, do ya think?" I gulped, and prayed silently. Don't say yes, whatever you do Mom, don't say yes!

"Well of course honey! Have fun, dear," she hung up the phone. Raqual laughed.

"Dear? What are you, four?"

"No, my stupid mom just thinks I am," I snapped, glaring at her angrily. She laughed, smiling broadly. I looked away, knowing she was laughing at me. Nimbly, I slurped up noodles from my chop sticks, making a big noise in hopes of grossing Raqual out enough for her to get lost. She didn't seem to notice. She just kept searching me with those creepy purple orbs.

Finally, she said, "Your eyes are so amber! It's weird."

_You shouldn't be talking_, I thought, but didn't reply to her comment. Deciding to change the subject, I looked over at the field to our right. There were guys lining up, and I could hear the distant cheers of little preppy girls. "So," I asked. "What's going on over there?" Raqual looked over, and then rolled her eyes.

"Just a bunch of dumb guys playing a stupid racing game. They think they're so cool, just 'cause they're boys." She snorted, crossing her arms. "Idiots, if you ask me." I handed her my thermos, and she looked at it then me. "What're you doing?"

I smiled wickedly, "Showing 'em who's boss!" She rolled her eyes. I ran off to them, then stopped. I turned around, running to Raqual. She gave me a, "what?" look. I pointed at the bow that was still on my head. "Take it out, would you? It's sucky."

She nodded, in agreement and in a manner of keeping herself from laughing. She tugged on one end, making the whole thing come out. My so-blonde-it's-practically-silver hair cascaded down my shoulders, ending down at my lower back. I smiled, and then raced off, ready to show those jerks up.

"That dumb ass," she shook her head, stealing a stick load of noodles without my knowing. "Doesn't even realize it, she just landed right onto my trap. Yes, she'll realize her Youkai powers, I'm sure of it."

**Ahem... I love small, square buttons. That are light blue. Ooh, and they rhyme with "mo", and "sew". .U Hint, hint. I reeeaaally want reveiws, peeps. I apoligize for lack of chapter. The next ones will be longer. And, less new-ish. Once things are explained, my chapters will run more smoothly.**


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